Best Chow Down Poems
Every planet in our solar system
Rotates in an anticlockwise direction
Except Venus which insists on being different
Always one has to be the exception
About 75 acres of pizzas are downed
In America every single day
Probably chow down about an acre myself
So I do my share wouldn't you say
Our eyes are always the same size from birth
However noses and ears get bigger
Imagine if our footsies also kept growing
Hard to do the Charleston I'd figure
The disgusting cockroach is the fastest animal
It covers about a meter a second
That's faster than me when I need to go badly
Running and holding my back end
They say only rabbits and parrots can see
Behind without turning their heads
But mothers also seem to have that ability
Try stealing some cookies before bed
A goldfish's memory is about 3 seconds
The same as me on a good day
That's excellent as far as most seniors go
Wish it was longer but what the hey
Iguanas can stay under water 28 minutes
Me too, but I'd miss all my friends
Sure hope they'd visit me one last time
Before off to the furnace I descend
All bubble gum contains a bit of rubber
For that bouncy bally effect
Makes you able to leap over tall buildings
But watch you don't break your neck
© Jack Ellison 2013
I want a relationship that'll bring championships.
I don't want to be reading fake scripts.
I want something that's real.
So my heart won't ever have to heal.
I want that kind of thrill.
Some people had said this.
And still went on to have a fake kiss.
I'm not like that.
I like to chat.
I'll listen.
And I'm a Christian.
I don't want a random companion.
I want a companion that'll help me become a champion.
I want someone who shares the same beliefs and not someone who thinks I'm underneath.
I want someone who can handle my jokes.
Not someone who'll give me strokes.
I don't want someone to change my personality.
I want someone who can adapt to my family.
I want someone to love.
Not someone to shove.
I don't want drama.
That always comes with karma.
I want a girl.
And definitely not hurl.
Maybe your that companion.
Just let me shoot you out of a Canon to be sure.
And let's see if your mature.
Honestly I don't know where to go now.
If you have a cow.
I'll help you chow down.
Oh boy I hope I meet clown.
The trick is to buy a smaller size,
The brain tells the head, this is wise,
Don't chow down on sweets,
To look like those petites,
One sure way to shrink ...EXERCISE!
For Ms. Devonshire's Contest
Holy Cow!
How? Now? Holy cow!
Tell me. How sacred art thou?
Do the gods dwell in you?
Or have they all said adieu?
Angel wings might bring prestige.
But money does upon greed besiege.
In India cows walk the streets.
While slaughterhouses harvest meats.
Have vegetarians lost their way?
Do they eat beef every day?
“Eat-Steak” restaurants here and there –
People chow down with great flare.
Tell me. Has your halo slipped?
What is in your cream thats whipped?
In big tanks your white is shipped.
Injected hormones, tainted milk.
Cold, refreshing extract sipped.
Dairy productions the billions bilk.
Worship God and not the cow!
Come and eat your great steak now.
That, which was holy long ago,
Has now brought about the chickens motto.
“Come an get your hunger relief.
Do not eat chicken, eat yummy beef!”
© September 26, 2010
Dane Smith-Johnsen
FUN PHOTOS OF HOLY COWS!
1. http://g-ecx.images-amazon.com/images/G/01/askville/6666639_30068576_mywrite/holycow2.jpg
2. http://www.cfalawrenceville.com/images/holy_cow.jpg
I may be unpopular in this thought
But I’ve considered this more than I ought
And the conclusion has presented itself
It comes from my extra ordinary culinary wealth
So I’ve put an exclamation mark at the end it all
I don’t like Mexican food, I’ve said it and I will take my fall!
The meat looks like brown paste
With no taste at all oh what a waste
And guacamole so slimy in the throat
As it leaves a greenish covering coat
Most things are wrapped in a corn tortilla
That is classed as finger food implement freer
So you have Chilaquiles, Pozole and Tacos al pastor,
Tostadas, Chiles en nogada, Elote, Enchiladas, Mole and Tamales more
All hard to pronounce for an Australian now
For those that like them it’s all up to you
Chow down is what you can do
But don’t wait for me I don’t like it too.
© Paul Warren Poetry
You're so handsome, the best-looking one
in town. More importantly, I've never known
anyone so loyal! You truly are man's--I mean
MY--best friend. Now, now! No neck nuzzling.
I have things to do. You're hungry? Okay, just
a healthy, crunchy snack for now. I'll grade a
few essays while you chow down.
Ohhh, OK, I'll share the porch swing with you.
A walk? Now? Well, all right. I want you to be
happy. We'll just take a brief--Whoa! Not so
blooming fast! I want to lead. Let's stay on the
sidewalk. May I lead--please? I'm supposed to
be walking YOU. Neighbors are pointing and
laughing-- except for Miss Daisy. No, not her
prize-winning flower bed! Last week, her paper;
this week, her flowers. Haven't we tested her
Christianity enough? Aw, come on. If she wants
fertilizer . . . Here she comes with a big stick!
YOU'RE ready to go back now?
Great! But first drag me to the clinic.
Oh, my rotator cuff!
January 18, 2016
I'm sure you've heard the term “artsy fartsy”
It can apply to a person or a thing
Most times expressed in a derogatory manner
Definitely has a “nose in the air” ring
In my lifetime career as a graphic designer
You'd think I'd be one of those guys
But nay nay I say I'm not that way inclined
My pinky doesn't point to the sky
Masculine as a male dude could possibly be
Mr. Jockstrap through and through
Chow down raw meat and stand up to pee
Most times leave the seat up too
It's certainly not a comment on social issues
Some of my friends are artsy fartsy
But most of the time my wee pinky stays put
Except when I'm stirring my tea
I'm sure you've heard the term “artsy fartsy”
Many times expressed with distain
Relax everybody it's not meant to be hurtful
Not everyone travels the same lane
© Jack Ellison 2013
Avocados are the latest craze right now
Is it marketing or taste that makes us go wow
Wanting to chow down
In tune with the town
But from this day forward my taste buds say ciao
They fight like two dogs after a female.
A cat and another cat for food, birds.
Becomes fodder for the Red Fox to pull
Feathers and chow down. Once half dead,
I put in can. Go to heavenly sleepness.
Leo got sick in new home, on to heaven.
Val - heart defect, needle shot. Gone.
And so on it goes, Caesar smoke. Slept.
Cremate, bury. Rise up to the gold gate.
I want to burn and sit on a white mantle.
Larry wants burn with ashes over Rockies.
Brother, mothers, father and grandparents,
Into ground, after productive life. Sleep.
Crops in the ground for all animals to eat.
Slaughter some. Feeds primates. Sweet meat.
So on and on it goes, in the cycle of life.
THE LYNX
That black cat, I spy - he licks the puppet all over.
The fox’s red fur feels not the imposition nor
the puppetmaster’s paw, but the red fox,
my prey, feels the crunch of its bones, insanity bleeds,
after the toilsome run from my teeth.
My teeth chatter, cold and cruel, terribly hungry
to rip up a carcass, to chow down
a soul. I eat the meat raw.
Its blood is my foundation -
I powder my nose. The cries of my prey
with stuffing and gravy. Yes, let’s do
Thanksgiving. Like me, the black cat
defiles a fox. We are both satisfied.
Thank you for coming
And giving me your time,
You seemed to like the Chinese,
I know I liked mine.
You have been gone now
For many a year,
Life was good and life was bad, and
We’ve shed many a tear.
It’s late afternoon now, and I know you must,
Leave me alone again and you’ll be, too,
You take your doggie, I’ll keep mine,
We don’t live far, please come back, do.
If children just knew what a little visit means,
They would come often and not be shy,
But they like to be in their own carved out nests,
And as far as that goes, so do I.
So take the rest of the Chinese takeout,
And think of me when you chow down,
Remember it’s from Mom with love,
And don’t forget to come back around
Do not be self-conscious or anything, but I have got my big ,rotatorof an eye on you.
I know your mama and yourdad, and I’m willing to let them know if you are not being true.
I cannot tell you that it is never odd or even, but I can tell you that it’s midway, and blue.
Eve, Bob, Otto and Anna are ready to jump right in that kayak and stack cats if they have to.
Don’t pop your eyes at me, young lady. I do not care if we are at the civic center; I feel free
To do whatever I have to, to keep Evil Olive in check, and you also, my little bumble bee.
Who is looking for a nut for a jar of tuna? There is no lemon, no melon, and it’s 9:03.
The radar gun is in the van with Hannah, anyway it was at noon, so I thought that it still might be.
Someone is outside the civic center is yelling, “No garden, one dragon!” What does that mean anyway?
I brought this 6th grade level field trip with me to have an interesting, fun-filled, learning challenged day.
I don’t need some nut-bucket ruining it for me, on every level, this is totally wrong, and I don’t play!
The mirror rimis brushing against the tailgate of the bus we brought, but that is for the driver to say.
Now where in the Sam hill crazy town, is that blue nylon solokayak that was attached to the top of our bus?
I thought we could have one blasted solo-inspired field trip to the civic center without a bunch of fuss.
I realize it is noon, and people are hungry and crabby, and the blue kayak is a big fat muss.
But you have to realize that Eve, Bob, Otto, and Anna were the ones assigned to straighten this big tuss.
I always get the blame when things go wrong, as everyone blames the poor old mama.
The dad is just as much to blame, but there he goes, taking off on a fat llama.
I’m ready to pop my cork, and pitch a fit that would shock the Dad, so much.
Aha! Here he is, back to chow down his fabulous, hand-stacked pepperoni lunch.
Wings take flight
Right off the page
Flying toward the sky
As the words escape my mind.
Pen touches the crisp paper
Magic begins to glow
From the tip of my wand
Bringing thoughts to life.
Imagery imprints the mind
Visualizing words to picture
Transforming into a story
Becoming a part of the tale.
Each word written
Is like a verbal tale
That becomes a spell
Hocus pocus, abra-imagia.
Reading each line
The eyes chow down
The mind digests
As the soul feels.
Words speak more than action
Strikes harder than a sword
Touches the soul from within
Can bring tears to the eyes.
Words can be used good or bad
Its just how we use them
To inspire or dispire
Help or ignore.
They can inspire us
Intrigue us with mystery
Make us laugh with joy
When their arranged oddly.
Words can heal us
More than medicine
For stories and poems
Fascinate and lure us
Like sirens singing to sailors.
Words formed together
To form a sentence
Like a spell forming
To create a crystal
Letting it shine bright
In the sunlight.
Words are magical
That change and inspire
Those that take the time
To read and find meaning
In what magic each holds.
my Thanksgiving comes with a sigh
I’m a steak and hamburger guy
roasted turkey is not
the kind of meal I want
I'll chow down on the pumpkin pie!
Let's go chow down.
Was he serious?
I could barely walk now.
Then I thought of the buffets.
All nine of them.
And the shrimp.
And the lobster.
I could go in my pajamas if I wanted.
So I rolled myself out of my teeny tiny not-so-great room
And I headed for Buffet number eight
So glad I had come on this cruise with my husband
Who was used to seeing me in my pajamas.
As we passed pajama-clad people in every corridor
I began to wish I had brought my zebra zip up suit.
It has no elastic around the waist whatsoever.
Cruises are all about eating.
If you know what you are doing.
And I do.